Post by carrie on Dec 12, 2016 22:16:38 GMT
CHARACTER NAME
Emma
I. Canon Character or Original Role? Are They in the Wanted Ads:
Original Character, not wanted
II. Allegiance/Loyalty of Character:
Right now, I'm kingless, only loyal to myself
III. Romantic Interests (if any):
Let's see
IV. Current Location:
Somewhere in the Riverlands
V. Occupation / Title:
officially Lady but I don't like being called one
VI. Face-Claim:
Gemma Arterton
VII. Name the code word found in our Plot:
Hodor
VIII. Name any other characters you play here:
Nobody yet
IX. Do you have any questions? If so, please either state them here or contact the staff:
I just want you to know that I am no native speaker, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes
Officially I am a Lady but to be honest, I've never acted like one. Blame it to my father for that since he raised me like the son he never was going to have. He taught me fighting and killing, made me an ice-cold girl who doesn't care about somebody else's life. I wish I could tell you that I never have enjoyed killing but this would be a lie. I do enjoy killing and since I realized that it is easier to live with it. However, there is one thing I cannot stand: hurting children. Blame it to my own violent childhood or to me being forced to kill children when I was only ten years old. Anyway, whenever I see a child being hurt I am raging. Speaking of - I use to be a very aggressive person easy to provoke. But careful - I don't really hesitate to use my steel. So better shut your mouth or run as fast as I can since I am really good at fighting especially at throwing knives. This is something I am really proud of and often enough I am underestimating potential foes which leads to unpleasant situations.
However, I am not all ice-cold and quick-tempered. Once you know me better you may see that I really can be nice - and funny by the way, although my humour is kinda sarcastic. Falling in love with me isn't the easiest thing since I don't prefer just one man at the same time and barely really are in love. I do enjoy good sex but more you should not expect - you only would be disappointed. Even though I have to say that it may be that I fall in love sometimes but I tend to forget these feelings and go on because I don't really believe in love.
Additionally I really lack being polite since I use to speak my mind no matter to which awkward situations this may lead. Once you take away something dear to me you should beware. If I am angry and with angry I mean hateful, it won't take me long to find you and take you out, you'll see.
I was born as the only child of Lord Carl Forrester. By the time my mother gave birth to me, I had a twin brother who did not survive his first day breathing. My mother followed him soon enough, since she started bleeding whilst birth and never stopped again. The maester was powerless, only able to give her milk of the poppy against the pain. Two days after my birth she died, leaving my father behind without his wife and the son he so eagerly wished for. I can't tell whether he hated me right from the beginning or even hated me at all. But all he ever gave me was harsh words and even harsher beatings. The love I needed to grow up properly I received from my uncle, a bastard named Malden Snow. He was the one I called father in secret, since my real father never gave me a glance. Not until I grew old enough to hold a weapon. Don't ask me why he did it, I never figured it out. But by the time I became six years old he started training me like a boy. I learned to fight - but not the elegant, sword-swinging way in which knights battled each other in combat. To be honest I never held a sword in my hand. No, my father trained me fighting like an assassin. Soon enough I could defeat a man without weapons or throw a knife barely ever missing. However, for my father being able to fight was not enough. He told me that knowing to fight does not make one able to kill and nevertheless I hate agreeing with him, he was right. I have seen enough boys dying in battle because they hesitated in the last moment. My father prevented that. Once I turned eight he chose criminals in town and told me to kill them. Whenever I refused, I was beaten or left in the cold over the night, so soon enough I stopped refusing and killed them. After a couple times it became really easy. You see, taking someone's life is described as something hard to do and even harder to forget. However, I started kinda enjoy it. Sounds awkward I know, but when you ever try it yourself, you'll know what I mean. In short, I was okay with killing. But then, when I was ten my father asked me to kill a girl of five. I think she was a bastard and an orphan, there was nobody who was going to miss her. Although I could not do it. She was crying all the time, begging me on her knees. And I refused. My father almost beat me to death until I finally gave her a quick death. However, after that, me and my uncle knew something had to change. It was Malden who gave the poison into my father's water and it was me who accompanied at his hunt and struck him down with a knife the time the poison has made him dizzy. I left his corpse to the animals, returning back home with tears in my eyes, talking of animals which took him down. I don't think that anyone believed me. But all of them were thankful since my father was known as a cruel Lord.
After his death, things really did change, I was too young to rule, therefore my uncle did instead. He was softer than my father, merciful, even though he had something hard in him as every Northerner has. I never stopped training to fight, as well as I never started to wear dresses like a Lady or look for some Lord to marry. Instead I had a lot of lovers, never stayed with one. Now I know that my uncle never really has been okay with that nevertheless he never said a word.
The time Robb Stark called his bannermen to war I was the commander of the Forrester army. We were not many, a few 1000 men who marched South with the rest of the North. At the massacre of Harrenhall I lost fifty men and in all the battles about a thousand. I never wanted this war, did not care about Ned Stark executed, did not care about his son wanting vengeance. But when Walder Frey made the Red Wedding happen, I did care. I did care about my uncle slaughtered whilst drinking a cup of wine. I did care about half my men butchered by Frey soldiers. I did care about myself, suddenly on flight, because Robb Stark, former King of the North, married the wrong woman.
Now I am still in the Riverlands, hunting down every Frey I meet, eager to avenge my uncle and my current lover and best friend Bastyan Snow who died among the thousand Northerners butchered that night. I won't return home. Not until Walder Frey is dead and my dear ones are avenged. Not until the South has payed the blood they own us. The North remembers.
Caryn walked through the woods around the Twins, moving quietly from tree to tree, barely making a sound. Five Frey soldiers were camping, just half a mile away. She has been watching them for a couple of time, waiting for the right moment to attack. Beyond the trees the sun was settling, turning the woods into a grey light slowly fading away. Soon enough, it would be dark. And with the darkness she would come at the soldiers, soundless, a part of the shadows. In morning light, someone would find five soldiers with sliced throats, another dead Frey patrol as there had been so many in the past months. Caryn was not responsible for all their deaths, of course she was not. There were others, homeless strangers since the Freys slaughtered their comrades and friends, their fathers and brothers. Maybe there even were groups battling soldiers together but she was not very eager to join them since she had never been much of a team player. Look out for yourself was the principle she lived and she lived it well. It was easier like this. No other persons to care about, no weaknesses. She was on her own because that was the way Caryn worked best.
Patience really was not one of her very best abilities nevertheless she waited behind a tree for almost two hours, only breathing, holding a knife in each hand, waiting for night to come and the butchery to start. She could hear them laughing, could see them drinking. They were not prepared for an attack and soon enough she would kill them all while they were drunk and unable to fight back. Some would call her a craven for this but Caryn did not care. She would rather win than die and combat the soldiers in open battle - one against ten - would be her death sentence. No, she would wait for the dark to cover her, the shadows to accompany her before she came out of the woods attacking in silence and leaving nothing behind but corpses. That was the person she turned in after the Red Wedding and she was totally okay with it.
mornin]
Original Character, not wanted
II. Allegiance/Loyalty of Character:
Right now, I'm kingless, only loyal to myself
III. Romantic Interests (if any):
Let's see
IV. Current Location:
Somewhere in the Riverlands
V. Occupation / Title:
officially Lady but I don't like being called one
VI. Face-Claim:
Gemma Arterton
VII. Name the code word found in our Plot:
Hodor
VIII. Name any other characters you play here:
Nobody yet
IX. Do you have any questions? If so, please either state them here or contact the staff:
I just want you to know that I am no native speaker, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes
PERSONALITY
Officially I am a Lady but to be honest, I've never acted like one. Blame it to my father for that since he raised me like the son he never was going to have. He taught me fighting and killing, made me an ice-cold girl who doesn't care about somebody else's life. I wish I could tell you that I never have enjoyed killing but this would be a lie. I do enjoy killing and since I realized that it is easier to live with it. However, there is one thing I cannot stand: hurting children. Blame it to my own violent childhood or to me being forced to kill children when I was only ten years old. Anyway, whenever I see a child being hurt I am raging. Speaking of - I use to be a very aggressive person easy to provoke. But careful - I don't really hesitate to use my steel. So better shut your mouth or run as fast as I can since I am really good at fighting especially at throwing knives. This is something I am really proud of and often enough I am underestimating potential foes which leads to unpleasant situations.
However, I am not all ice-cold and quick-tempered. Once you know me better you may see that I really can be nice - and funny by the way, although my humour is kinda sarcastic. Falling in love with me isn't the easiest thing since I don't prefer just one man at the same time and barely really are in love. I do enjoy good sex but more you should not expect - you only would be disappointed. Even though I have to say that it may be that I fall in love sometimes but I tend to forget these feelings and go on because I don't really believe in love.
Additionally I really lack being polite since I use to speak my mind no matter to which awkward situations this may lead. Once you take away something dear to me you should beware. If I am angry and with angry I mean hateful, it won't take me long to find you and take you out, you'll see.
HISTORY
I was born as the only child of Lord Carl Forrester. By the time my mother gave birth to me, I had a twin brother who did not survive his first day breathing. My mother followed him soon enough, since she started bleeding whilst birth and never stopped again. The maester was powerless, only able to give her milk of the poppy against the pain. Two days after my birth she died, leaving my father behind without his wife and the son he so eagerly wished for. I can't tell whether he hated me right from the beginning or even hated me at all. But all he ever gave me was harsh words and even harsher beatings. The love I needed to grow up properly I received from my uncle, a bastard named Malden Snow. He was the one I called father in secret, since my real father never gave me a glance. Not until I grew old enough to hold a weapon. Don't ask me why he did it, I never figured it out. But by the time I became six years old he started training me like a boy. I learned to fight - but not the elegant, sword-swinging way in which knights battled each other in combat. To be honest I never held a sword in my hand. No, my father trained me fighting like an assassin. Soon enough I could defeat a man without weapons or throw a knife barely ever missing. However, for my father being able to fight was not enough. He told me that knowing to fight does not make one able to kill and nevertheless I hate agreeing with him, he was right. I have seen enough boys dying in battle because they hesitated in the last moment. My father prevented that. Once I turned eight he chose criminals in town and told me to kill them. Whenever I refused, I was beaten or left in the cold over the night, so soon enough I stopped refusing and killed them. After a couple times it became really easy. You see, taking someone's life is described as something hard to do and even harder to forget. However, I started kinda enjoy it. Sounds awkward I know, but when you ever try it yourself, you'll know what I mean. In short, I was okay with killing. But then, when I was ten my father asked me to kill a girl of five. I think she was a bastard and an orphan, there was nobody who was going to miss her. Although I could not do it. She was crying all the time, begging me on her knees. And I refused. My father almost beat me to death until I finally gave her a quick death. However, after that, me and my uncle knew something had to change. It was Malden who gave the poison into my father's water and it was me who accompanied at his hunt and struck him down with a knife the time the poison has made him dizzy. I left his corpse to the animals, returning back home with tears in my eyes, talking of animals which took him down. I don't think that anyone believed me. But all of them were thankful since my father was known as a cruel Lord.
After his death, things really did change, I was too young to rule, therefore my uncle did instead. He was softer than my father, merciful, even though he had something hard in him as every Northerner has. I never stopped training to fight, as well as I never started to wear dresses like a Lady or look for some Lord to marry. Instead I had a lot of lovers, never stayed with one. Now I know that my uncle never really has been okay with that nevertheless he never said a word.
The time Robb Stark called his bannermen to war I was the commander of the Forrester army. We were not many, a few 1000 men who marched South with the rest of the North. At the massacre of Harrenhall I lost fifty men and in all the battles about a thousand. I never wanted this war, did not care about Ned Stark executed, did not care about his son wanting vengeance. But when Walder Frey made the Red Wedding happen, I did care. I did care about my uncle slaughtered whilst drinking a cup of wine. I did care about half my men butchered by Frey soldiers. I did care about myself, suddenly on flight, because Robb Stark, former King of the North, married the wrong woman.
Now I am still in the Riverlands, hunting down every Frey I meet, eager to avenge my uncle and my current lover and best friend Bastyan Snow who died among the thousand Northerners butchered that night. I won't return home. Not until Walder Frey is dead and my dear ones are avenged. Not until the South has payed the blood they own us. The North remembers.
ROLE PLAY SAMPLE
Caryn walked through the woods around the Twins, moving quietly from tree to tree, barely making a sound. Five Frey soldiers were camping, just half a mile away. She has been watching them for a couple of time, waiting for the right moment to attack. Beyond the trees the sun was settling, turning the woods into a grey light slowly fading away. Soon enough, it would be dark. And with the darkness she would come at the soldiers, soundless, a part of the shadows. In morning light, someone would find five soldiers with sliced throats, another dead Frey patrol as there had been so many in the past months. Caryn was not responsible for all their deaths, of course she was not. There were others, homeless strangers since the Freys slaughtered their comrades and friends, their fathers and brothers. Maybe there even were groups battling soldiers together but she was not very eager to join them since she had never been much of a team player. Look out for yourself was the principle she lived and she lived it well. It was easier like this. No other persons to care about, no weaknesses. She was on her own because that was the way Caryn worked best.
Patience really was not one of her very best abilities nevertheless she waited behind a tree for almost two hours, only breathing, holding a knife in each hand, waiting for night to come and the butchery to start. She could hear them laughing, could see them drinking. They were not prepared for an attack and soon enough she would kill them all while they were drunk and unable to fight back. Some would call her a craven for this but Caryn did not care. She would rather win than die and combat the soldiers in open battle - one against ten - would be her death sentence. No, she would wait for the dark to cover her, the shadows to accompany her before she came out of the woods attacking in silence and leaving nothing behind but corpses. That was the person she turned in after the Red Wedding and she was totally okay with it.
mornin]
deltra of gangnam style